It’s been ten months since I’ve visited New York City, the longest span of time I’ve stayed away since 2006. This isn’t so much by choice but circumstance, as being unemployed isn’t the best time to spend money on frivolous things — and what are my visits to NYC other than frivolous? It’s not as though there’s a job — or relationship — there, and despite my frequent visits I really only know a handful of people who live there. No, it’s more a feeling I get when I go — and one I’ve missed quite a bit the past few months. I’d like to go next month — in July — as the thought of it having been a year (an entire year!) since visiting seems intolerable. Even if it’s 363 days since I last went — well, that’s not a year.
But there’s a job on the horizon. I’ve got a 2nd interview for an online marketing position that sounds exciting and promising, and if I’m offered the job I do believe I’ll accept. That is, if I can get over the fear of commitment to an office job, something I’ve not had since the summer of 2001. Eight years is a long time to go without being tied down to someone else’s schedule and parameters and supervision. And honestly? I don’t know if I can do it — I’m already planning to ask if telecommuting is a viable option one or two days a week — and it scares the bejesus out of me, even more than being in a functioning relationship that’s going somewhere.
Speaking of which, I asked JS tonight if he could see himself moving to New York in the future. With all of our talk about moving in together (and marriage, since I’ve been blunt and honest that I won’t again do one without the other), the white elephant in the living room is the plan I have to move to NYC when Rebel graduates from high school. Since he’s entering 4th grade this year, we’ve got a few years to move in that direction, but still… I can’t see myself walking down that path with someone who’s unwilling to help me realize my dreams. And then I start thinking I’m selfish to ask someone who’s lived in Chicago his entire adult life (he’ll be 48 this August) to pick up and move when he’ll be in his mid-50s just because NYC “feels” better for me. But I also think that I’ve been up-front about this from Day One, and maybe it’s just one of those many quirks I have, something he’ll accept and go along with because he loves me and, after all, it’s not like NYC is Montana or Nebraska or (God forbid) LA.
Whatever happens, I know that if I were to marry JS and we were to start a life together in which NYC was off the table? I’d be very sad, and I’d feel as though I were compromising the person I was in order to become something I’m not. I don’t know if all relationships require that sort of compromise, but the romantic in me says they don’t. The pragmatist, though? Well, she’s never happy anyway, so who cares what she thinks?
All I suppose I can do is follow my heart (in many directions at once, as impossible as that seems) and trust my intuitions. There isn’t any indication at all that JS will be stubborn on this point — he said as much this evening — and as for the job and such? I’ll have to trust my intuition on that one, too. Even if I am terrified I’ll be settling in more ways than one, there are no rewards without risks, no?